Liars and Thieves
by goddess-protect-us
Summary: You can take away everything Draco and Lucius ever had, but you won't break them.  They're better than that.  And they're better than you.
1. Chapter 1

The song in this is by Mumford and Sons. I will be continuing Worthy is the Lamb, but I'm doing this at the same time.

**Chapter 1**

If you were to walk up the drive of a certain manor house in Wiltshire, two years after the war had finished, you would see elaborate metal gates with Malfoy Manor emblazoned across the top. If you knew anything about the wizarding world, this would immediately bring to mind images of elegance, wealth and long, white blond hair.

For this reason you would be surprised, if you continued up the drive and into the entrance hall, at seeing a young man with long, white blond hair tied into a neat, fishtail plat on his knees on the cold flagstones wearing nothing but worn jeans trying to light the fire in the huge fireplace. If you stayed to watch, you'd see him pouring a fire-starting potion onto the wood, then quickly jumping back as the flames roared to life. You would be even more surprised at seeing another man, so similar to the first in everything but age that he had to be his father, enter the room and kneel next to his son. They would be silent, but some communication would seem to take place as they stood and left the room in tandem.

If you followed them, you would see them go up stairs, enter a large room, probably the master bedroom, and begin to make the bed. They would strip the sheets and replace them with fresh ones in practiced motions. Then, once the bed was perfect, they would pick up the dirty sheets and any stray clothes. The older of the pair would take those and make his way out of the room and down the stairs. The younger man would take a final look around the room and leave then leave it. He would make his way downstairs and into the breakfast room. It would have large windows, facing east for the morning sun, and simple decor.

In the room, at the table, a young man would be sitting, whom the pale young man would attend upon, pouring his drink and serving him food. If you chose to take a closer look, you would see the man had black hair and a tall, string build completely at odds with the two men you had previously encountered. Perhaps then, this strange place you had entered was governed by physical rather than social stature. The darker man would be wearing robes, practical, rather than ornate, woollen ones because the manor is cold. Perhaps then you'd wonder why the other two men were wearing so few clothes. Their feet must be cold on the stone floor, and their bare chests must be freezing.

The darker man would glance at the one attending him and say in voice full of the confidence which comes with practice, "That will all, Draco."

Draco would nod and leave the room, make his way out of the grander part of the house and down to the kitchen. His father would be there making bread. They would exchange their meaningful looks and then Draco would start to do the laundry. The laundry is done by hand, there are no electrical appliances in the manor. All this used to be done by house elves, using their magic, but having house elves is illegal now. They're all in house elf colonies where they sit around fashioning clothes for each other and wondering what their poor masters and mistresses will be doing without them.

The older man would start to sing then, the first sound either of them has made. It would be sudden, almost harsh from having no introduction, his voice deep with just the right amount of gravel in it.

_Cold is the water_

_It freezes your already cold mind_

_Already cold, cold mind_

His son would join in, a slightly higher, smoother harmony.

_And death is at your doorstep_

_And it will steal your innocence_

_But it will not steal your substance_

_But you are not alone in this_

_And you are not alone in this_

_As brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand_

_Hold your hand_

_And you are the mother_

_The mother of your baby child_

_The one to whom you gave life_

_And you have your choices_

_And these are what make man great_

_His ladder to the stars_

_But you are not alone in this_

_And you are not alone in this_

_As brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand_

_Hold your hand_

_And I will tell the night_

_Whisper, "Lose your sight"_

_But I can't move the mountains _

_For you._

The last verse would be regretful. They would move the mountains, they would do anything. But they can scarcely envisage what these mountains are, let alone how they might begin to move them. All they can give is this support, this heartfelt yet pitiable support for their brother. Not that either of them have siblings.

A door would slam above them, signalling that the master of the house has gone to work. Neither of them would pause in their work but a tension would leave them. The older would put the bread in the oven as the younger began to hang up washing. With these chores done they would go up stairs, and if you followed them you could watch them clear up breakfast from the table. The table cloth would be removed, more washing, and replaced with a clean one.

If you watched them for the rest of the day, you would be remarkably bored. They would clean each room of the house, barely stopping for a bite of lunch, then Draco would go outside to tend the horses while his father prepared dinner. When the master of the house returned, Draco would serve him dinner. He would be dismissed with the words, "That will be all Draco, you can tell Lucius that was very good."

He would go downstairs and help Lucius clean the kitchen before venturing upstairs to clean the dining room once he could be sure the darker man would not be there. With that done he and his father would eat a modest dinner and retire to the small room they slept in beside the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ron Weasley made his way through the gate, up the drive and to the door of Malfoy Manor. He knocked on the door and waited, but there was only silence. The words of his wife, Hermione Granger, were still ringing in his ears.

"I don't want you to have anything more to do with him, Ron." She'd shouted when he'd told her where he was going. "What he's doing is barbaric and inhumane."

"And it's Ministry sanctioned." Ron had explained calmly, he'd learnt a lot about being calm during his marriage to Hermione. "He's our friend, and I'm not going to ruin that just because he's made one bad decision concerning the Malfoys."

"So that's what this comes down to. They're Malfoys so you think they deserve this."

"It doesn't matter what I think, 'Mione, it matters what the Ministry thinks."

Ron knocked again, but there was still no reply, his breath misted the air as he waited and he rubbed his freezing hands together. It was a Saturday, so Harry wouldn't be at work. Then he heard movement behind him. He turned to see Draco Malfoy walking around the corner of the house. Draco was wearing, as ever, worn jeans and nothing else. It made Ron uncomfortable, he had never see Harry actively abuse the Malfoys, but not allowing them sufficient clothing in winter seemed to come pretty close. Draco was carrying a saddle on one arm and in his other hand was a brush. He transferred the brush the hand holding the saddle and raised his now free left hand. He traced a pattern in the air and smoke followed his fingers. Soon the pattern became words: _can I help you?_

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Harry."

Draco nodded. _The Master is out riding, would you like to come inside for something warm to drink while I send word to him?_

_The Master_, it made him cringe. "Yes, thank you." It was odd talking like this, he felt as though he was speaking to himself, or as though he should be guilty because he had a voice.

He was shown in through the doors and to a sitting room. _Something to drink? _Draco prompted.

"Tea, would be nice, if you don't mind, please." He didn't see how Harry could give orders so easily.

Draco nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and left. Ron was left alone in the lavishly furnished sitting room for a few minutes before Lucius Malfoy entered. It was somehow more disturbing to have someone his father's age waiting on him. As with Draco, you could see the myriad scars which traced over his lean, muscular abdomen. Lucius set the tray in front of him and stepped back.

"Thank you." Ron stuttered. He took a deep breath, he had heard Harry dismiss them plenty of times at dinner, he could do this. "That'll be all." Lucius inclined his head as Draco had and the same ghost of a smile flitted over his lips. Then he left.

Ron was just finishing his tea when Harry came back. He was wearing riding gear and his hair and clothes were windswept. He grinned at Ron and shook his hand vigorously.

"How are you?" The Master of the manor asked.

"Fine, you?"

"Not too bad." He stripped off his outer gear. "Draco," the boy appeared, "bring me some tea and prepare lunch to be served at one. Mr Weasley will eating with me." Draco obediently took Harry's coat, gloves and crop, then left the room.

Harry sat himself in the chair opposite Ron. "So how's Hermione?"

"She's fine, still angry with you though."

Harry laughed. "She alway did know how to hold a grudge."

"It's not a grudge Harry, she's right." Ron swallowed at the look on Harry's face. "It's true, what you're dong is slavery."

"Ministry sanctioned slavery." Harry corrected.

"Yeah, but how many times have the Ministry been wrong Harry. If you're going to go along with everything the Ministry says we have a problem." Ron attempted to lighten the conversation.

Harry didn't laugh. "The Ministry gave the manor to me. They came with the manor. End of story."

"Not _end of story _Harry, they're people."

"And they were given to me as a reward for everything I've done. I earned them."

Ron swallowed, then stood on weak legs. He didn't know who he was speaking to but it wasn't his oldest friend. "Enjoy your lunch, Harry. I think I have to go."

Harry sighed as Ron left the house. He rested his head in his hands. When the war had finished he had been exhausted. It wasn't just the battle, it was publicity, the interviews, the celebrations and the loss. When it was over, Kingsley had told him he had a present for the Ministry's favourite hero. He had apparated them to Malfoy Manor and given him a tour. Harry had relaxed for what felt like the first time in years. Despite the pain and death it had seen, the manor had been fixed up and it really was beautiful.

Then they had brought out Draco and Lucius like dogs for a show. They were already half naked, wearing only the jeans they'd been given by the Ministry. The scars inflicted by the war stood out on their chests. Harry had never seen any reason to give them anything else to wear, because they'd never asked

They hadn't seemed real when the aurors had pushed them forward, stumbling to a halt before their new Master. Harry had asked if they'd be any good as servants, and Kingsley had joked that they had come ready trained. Then he told Harry that they had taken away their voices. That had pleased Harry the most, the fact he'd never have to hear Draco's sullen drawl again. But it also meant that the two blondes who were forever at his disposal would never become people to him. Just a soft presence at the edge of his mind, not able to express themselves or object to their treatment. Draco could write in the air, but Harry could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Draco had done that in his presence. The Malfoys had no voice.


	3. Chapter 3

All the songs in this are Mumford and Sons, just so everyone knows. Chapter one was Timshel and this chapter is Role Away your Stone.

**Chapter 3**

Ron and Hermione were having a well earned cup of tea when the door bell rang. It was Ron who heaved himself up out of his armchair and answered the door, eyes widening slightly in surprised at who it revealed.

"Professor Snape."

"Mr Weasley. Perhaps I could come in."

"Eh, sure."

Ron stepped away from the door to allow Snape access to the house. Snape had become no less intimidating in the years since Ron had left Hogwarts. He still wore black robes, and his tone was less than friendly. Still, he hadn't said anything rude yet so Ron was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Hermione looked surprised when she saw who was on her living room, but quickly composed herself. "Good afternoon, Professor. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs Weasley."

"Please, call me Hermione. Mrs Weasley is still Ron's mother."

"Well then you must call Severus, as I am hardly your professor now." Ron was surprised by how polite Snape was being, his Gryffindor nature telling him that Snape must want something.

Hermione just smiled and went about fixing tea. As they all sat down she smiled at their erstwhile professor knowingly. "I assume you're here about Draco and Lucius."

"Yes, Hermione, that is exactly why I am here. I believe it would be advantageous to all parties if the Malfoys were removed from Mr Potter's... care."

"That much us obvious, it's how to do it that's the problem."

"The Ministry has allowed this, so there will be little point appealing to them. What I'm proposing goes over the Ministry's head, so to speak."

Hermione leant forward, a rather sinister smile on her face. "And what exactly are you proposing?"

"The wizarding division of the European Court of Human Rights. If we can get an order from them to release Lucius and Draco, then the Ministry will have to let them go."

"Will the Court listen to us?"

"Yes, I think they will. Draco and Lucius were given to Potter because the Ministry knew they couldn't build enough of a case against them to put them in Azkaban, so they were quietly tidied out of the way."

Hermione nodded sadly, she'd suspected as much herself. "I only know about the muggle part of the Court of Human Rights, but from what I can tell what they say is only a recommendation, it doesn't have to be put into practice."

"The Wizarding Court is a lot more influential than it's muggle counterpart. If the Ministry were to ignore a ruling, they could be disbanded and new elections held."

"So if we bring this matter to the Court," Hermione confirmed, "and they rule in our favour, the Ministry will have to listen to us."

"Yes, Hermione, I believe so."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry paused outside the kitchen door. He'd got an urgent letter from the Ministry that morning and gone in straight away. Kingsley had explained to him what had happened. The Malfoy case had been brought to the European Court of Human Rights and it had ordered that the Malfoys either be charged or freed. The Ministry couldn't charge them, looking at the memories of the other Death Eaters it was clear that neither of them had willingly served the Dark Lord, so they had to free them.

He pushed the door open a crack and stopped short. He never had thought he would never hear the Malfoys' voices again, but there they were.

Roll away your stone, I'll roll away mine.

Together we can see what we will find

Don't leave me alone at this time,

For I'm afraid of what I will discover inside

Cause you told me that I would find a hole,

Within the fragile substance of my soul

And I have filled this void with things unreal,

And all the while my character it steals

But darkness is a harsh term don't you think?

And yet it dominates the things I see

It seems that all my bridges have been burned,

But you say that's exactly how this grace thing works

It's not the long walk home that will change this heart,

But the welcome I receive with the restart

But darkness is a harsh term don't you think?

And yet it dominates the things I see

But darkness is a harsh term don't you think?

And yet it dominates the things I've seen

Stars hide your fires,

These here are my desires

And I won't give them up to you this time around

And so, I'll be found with my stake stuck in this ground

Marking the territory of this newly impassioned soul

But you, you've gone too far this time

You have neither reason nor rhyme

With which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine.

Harry was so stunned he couldn't move for a long moment. He knew they couldn't speak, but no one had told him they could sing. And God could they sing. Even without instruments to back them up their tune never faltered or strayed and their voices filled the room. They had clearly sung together many times as their harmony was perfect. Even though they didn't know he was there, Harry felt like the song had been aimed directly at him, like he had caused their sorrow and anguish. He supposed he had.


End file.
